This Can't be Life

by Shakara Cannon

  “No worries. I don’t wear them twice anyway. The white isn’t white unless it’s brand new, crispy white,” I replied with a sly wink. She kissed me on my forehead like a sister would a little brother and headed down the stairs and out the door.

  Simone

  I pushed the button on the remote control that sat on my nightstand at the side of my bed. A flat screen TV emerged from my footboard — a gift from Carlton since I liked his so much, he bought me one! I smiled to myself at the thought of Carlton, and my whole body felt warm. I picked up the remote and began channel surfing.

  “Damn, there’s always some breaking news in LA,” I said aloud. Probably a damned high-speed chase or something, I thought, as I continued surfing through the channels. Goodness, it’s on every local station! I turned to the E channel. Commercial break, of course. I flipped to our local Channel 2 station, deciding to see what all the commotion was about. As I began to get out of my bed, I was jolted back in place by what I saw on TV.

  “What in the hell is going on?” I whispered when I saw the SWAT team and a million police cars surrounding the office building that housed the law firm where Nichelle worked. The news reporter said that there was an armed man inside the law offices of Winston, Carmichael, and Broxton holding five people hostage. She stated that there wasn’t any word yet on the identity of the gunman and that there hadn’t been any contact made as of yet. I looked at the clock on my nightstand that read 9:45, picked up my cell phone, and called Deon, thankful that I wasn’t the type to delete numbers. Unfortunately, it went straight to voicemail.

  “Deon, its Simone, call me back as soon as you get this message.” I left my home and cell number since I knew that — for whatever reason — he had erased them. Ten minutes later, I dialed him again. His voicemail picked up without even a ring. I got up, put the teakettle on the stove, and turned the TV on in my kitchen so I wouldn’t miss anything. I sat on my bar stool for over an hour and watched as a white man and woman both wearing business suits came running out of the building frantically. I flipped to Channel 4, hoping I could find out what in the hell was going on. I prayed Nichelle wasn’t in there. I made myself a third cup of tea, trying to calm my nerves as two more people ran out of the building.

  “What in the hell is going on in there?” I stood up to watch the new developments, too antsy to sit. I watched with my mouth open as the SWAT team ran inside of the building. Ten minutes later a reporter broke the story.

  “At 9:30 a.m. this morning, an unidentified man took five people hostage inside the law offices of Winston, Carmichael, and Broxton, here in Century City on Avenue of the Stars. The gunman held the hostages for over an hour before shooting a female attorney who worked for the firm. Her identity has not been disclosed as of yet, but we are hearing reports that she was shot multiple times before the suspect turned the gun on himself. They were both pronounced dead when the authorities gained entrance inside the conference room of the law office…this hasn’t been confirmed, but we are hearing from one of the hostages that the female attorney was Nichelle Carter who was pronounced dead at the scene, and worked as a corporate attorney…”

  My mind went blank and my eyes got blurry. I had to sit. I felt my eyes swell and run over with tears. I picked up my cell phone and redialed Deon again. This would be the fifth time leaving a message if he didn’t pick up, and about my 20th time calling.

  “What’s up?” he answered. It didn’t sound like he had heard the news.

  “Where are you?” I asked. I knew he wouldn’t be trying to hear what I had to say over this phone.

  “Who is this?” he asked.

  “It’s Simone, Deon. Where are you?”

  “On my way to my agent’s. What’s up?” he asked coldly.

  “Can you come over here right now?” I didn’t want to tell him over the phone, and most importantly, I didn’t want him to be alone when he heard the news.

  “Yeah, I could be there in like 10 minutes, but I have to be at my agent’s in 30. What’s up, though?” he asked.

  “Deon, just come over here right now. Just come. And hurry!” My voiced cracked. I couldn’t hold in my tears any longer.

  “Okay…I’m on my way,” he said hesitantly.

  “Just hurry,” I kept repeating over and over, long after he had hung up.

  Deon

  I sped east on the 10 freeway and was in front of Simone’s building five minutes later. I couldn’t imagine what was so important that she needed me to come right over. I was praying that she wasn’t going to try to throw no pregnancy bullshit my way. I left my car parked in front and I ran inside, right past the doorman. I hopped on the elevator and punched in the code she gave me a while back so I could access her floor. She was standing there when the elevator arrived. Her eyes were puffy and a tear dropped down her cheek when she saw me. I waited for the glass doors to part then I walked in hesitantly.

  “What’s wrong, Simone?” I asked, not prepared for what she was going to tell me.

  “Deon, something happened at Nichelle’s office. I saw it on the news.”

  “What happened at Nichelle’s office?” I asked as I walked closer to her.

  “Someone went to her office and held them hostage. The news said that she’s dead, Deon. They said her name on the news and said the gunman killed her and himself.” My ears had to be deceiving me.

  “There’s a mistake. The news wouldn’t just say her name like that when they haven’t notified the family or anyone. That doesn’t make sense.”

  She grabbed the remote control off of her sofa and clicked on the TV. Right on cue, they were showing clips of Nichelle talking to the media about her last case. I picked up Simone’s home phone off the counter and dialed Nichelle’s cell number and office number at least three times back to back, but got no answer on either.

  “I have to go get Tyson,” I whispered as I felt an overwhelming panic consume me.

  “Wait, let me get my shoes. I’ll drive you.” Simone returned with her shoes on and her purse in hand before her words even registered. We ran through the lobby of her building and jumped in my truck. I closed my eyes and hoped that I was dreaming; prayed that this was a nightmare.

  “Where’s the school, Deon?” I heard Simone ask but I couldn’t even form words to answer her. My voice just wouldn’t come.

  “Deon, where’s the school?” she asked again, softly touching my arm.

  “Wait. Turn back around. Let’s get your car so you can follow me there. When we pick Ty up, I need you to take him back to my house so I can go see about Chell. Maybe this is all a mistake.” I felt like I was having an out of body experience. This is not happening! I kept repeating over and over in my mind.

  When we pulled up to Tyson’s school, I jumped out of the car and ran the long distance to the office.

  “I’m here to pick up Tyson Carter.” I stated to a lady sitting behind her desk. The Head Master came out of his office and walked over to me. I was so relieved that Nichelle had thought to put me on his paperwork. I had been here more than a few times so they knew my face.

  “We’ll send someone to his class room to bring him over. Would you like to have a seat in my office?” the pleasant man asked me.

  “No. Can someone please escort me to his classroom? I’d like to get him myself,” I asked, clearing my throat, trying to swallow the huge lump that wouldn’t go away.

  “Sure, I’ll walk you over. Sharon, call down to the classroom and let Mrs. Heller know to get Tyson ready to leave for the day,” he told the lady who now stood at her desk wide-eyed.

  “Most certainly.” she replied, picking up the phone as we headed out of the office.

  “I’m so sorry about this Mister Bradford. If there is anything we can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask. We will really miss Miss Carter here at St. Matthews,” he spoke as we walked. When we got to Tyson’s classroom, he ran into my arms.

  “Hey, Deon, I didn’t know you were picking me up today. Why am I leaving ea
rly?” he asked, releasing his embrace and straightening his backpack.

  “Something came up, lil’ man. We have to go,” I said as I grabbed his hand and walked out of the classroom.

  “Thank you. I’ll be in touch soon.” I walked us to the parking lot of the school and opened the back door for Tyson to get in.

  “Put your seat belt on, Ty,” I instructed after we were in the car. I adjusted my rear view mirror so that I could see him sitting in the back. He was confused. I could see it in his eyes. I didn’t know how I was going to tell him that he would never see his mom again. I was praying that I wouldn’t have to.

  “I already did. Is there something wrong, Deon?” he asked.

  “Everything is gonna be all right, lil’ man.”

  “Then why are you crying?” I hadn’t even noticed the tears streaming down my cheeks.

  “I’m okay. Everything’s gonna be all right.” I readjusted the mirror to make sure Simone was behind us then I sped away from the school.

  Simone

  Right before I pulled up to Deon’s house, he called me and said that he’d talked to one of the partners of the firm where Nichelle practiced. He confirmed that it was her and that everything that we’d heard was true. Once inside, I kept the TV off and made sure Tyson didn’t turn it on because the murder-suicide was on every channel and I didn’t want him to see that.

  I couldn’t imagine having to be the one to tell him his Mommy was dead. Thankfully, Deon’s parents were on their way from Atlanta to help him arrange the funeral and take care of Tyson. I knew that he would need his family here at a time like this, so I was relieved to know that they would be here for him. I often wondered how it felt to have parents that loved you and stood by you under any circumstance. I had the Miles’ but it wasn’t the same as having your own flesh and blood by your side, through thick and thin.

  Ty and I were on our third game of some Xbox NBA video game and he was beating me badly. Of course, I had never played the game before, so I was no real competition. It was actually kind of fun, and it helped me keep my mind off what was going on and off Carlton. He was in Connecticut recording songs for his new album and hadn’t been gone for 24 hours, yet I missed him all ready. I was happy to have something to keep my mind off of his absence, although I wished it wasn’t this.

  After first meeting Nichelle, I wasn’t really feeling her. I didn’t like the way she came at me when we first met, but when I got the chance to really get to know her, I understood that she was just trying to protect Deon. She was honest, down to earth, comfortable with who she was, and I admired that about her. If you wanted an honest opinion, she was the person to go to.

  I had spent a lot of time at Deon’s house after my accident. We’d gotten pretty close, so when he didn’t want me to go home, I was happy to stay. I spent a lot of nights and mornings talking to Nichelle while Deon was out or on the road. Getting to know her and Tyson helped me to get to know Deon more, and I truly liked him as a person. I was starting to let him in and trust him, but then he blew it. I knew I could never let him get close to me again. I really would have rather not even seen him again so soon, but when I saw the news this morning, I knew I had to be here for him. I had to make sure that he and Tyson would be all right. All personal feelings aside, he deserved to have someone here for him at a time like this.

  The telephone rang and gave me the opportunity to take a break from getting my butt beat. It was the doorman. The pizza we’d ordered was finally here.

  “My mommy only likes cheese pizza. She doesn’t let me eat pepperoni. She said we can’t eat pork. Sometimes, she’ll get half veggie and that is gross!” Tyson said, taking a sip of his A&W Root Beer as we sat at the table in the kitchen.

  “Veggies are good for you, though. It’ll make you big and strong.”

  “Like Deon?” he asked, chewing.

  “Yeah, like Deon,” I smiled. He looked so much like his mother. It’s a shame that he will never be able to hug and kiss her again.

  “I’ll be right back. Gotta potty,” I said, my voice cracking as I ran to the bathroom to cry. This shit wasn’t fair. To lose your mother and father this way just seemed so cruel. I had to get myself together. I couldn’t let him see me like this. I walked back to the table and grabbed my glass to refill it with more ice water.

  “Why are your eyes red, Monie?” He was a very inquisitive child. Just like his mom, he could see right through the surface of things.

  “I’m just really sad, Ty.” I said as more tears escaped my eyes. I didn’t want to cry in front of him, but I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

  “Why are you sad, Simone?” He asked chewing on a bite of pizza.

  “I just am, Ty. I’m sorry.”

  “I know something is wrong. I can handle whatever it is…you ready to finish getting your butt kicked?” he asked, rising from the table.

  “Are you full?” I asked, about to remove his plate from the table.

  “Yeah, I’ll have more later. Two is enough for right now. Cold pizza is better, anyway.”

  “Okay, let me clean off the table and I’ll be ready for you to continue kicking my butt, lil’ man.” I tickled his neck, making him laugh and run into the den.

  I heard the front door open and shortly after, Deon walked into the kitchen. He stood against the pantry door and continuously shook his head back and forth.

  “He didn’t have to do her like that. Why in the fuck didn’t he think about his son? Selfish son of a bitch!” He said in a hushed tone. I could tell that he was in so much pain as he stood there with his hands in his pockets.

  “So it was him, huh?” I asked as he shook his head. He had told me some of the story about her ex-husband before. I remembered as I watched the news earlier. I had a feeling that he was the one that came and turned Deon and Tyson’s life upside down.

  “She didn’t deserve this and Tyson doesn’t deserve to grow up without his parents,” I said as I walked up to him and laid my head on his chest.

  “This shit hurts more and more every minute. It’s just un-fucking believable, Simone.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him. I was trying to lend him some of my strength as we stood there saying nothing.

  “Do you want me to pick your parents up from the airport?” I asked.

  “No, my agent called a car service to pick them up. Thanks.” Tyson came running into the kitchen to ask me what was taking so long when he saw that Deon had returned.

  “Hey, D. Wanna get beat in NBA 2K7? Simone isn’t any competition and I kinda feel bad beating her over and over again,” Ty laughed.

  “Oh, rub it in, why don’t you,” I laughed.

  “It’s okay. You’ll get better,” Tyson replied as he hugged me and reached up to kiss me on the cheek.

  “We can play later, lil’ man. Let’s go in the room and talk, okay?”

  “Okay,” Tyson said, shrugging his shoulders.

  45 minutes had passed before Deon came out of the room by himself. I had been lying on a chaise lounge on the second level sitting area right outside of the master bedroom. I was staring out the window, gazing at the beautiful view. He sat down next to me and covered his face with his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked, sitting up and rubbing his back.

  “He cried himself to sleep,” he whispered, shaking his head in his hands.

  “This is so wrong. I can’t believe this is happening,” I sighed.

  “Me either. We got drunk last night and she stayed over. We stayed up talking and when she left this morning, she told me she’d see me later. I should have made her get bodyguards. I should’ve made her go to the police. I should have hired the damned security myself! I should have gone with my gut feeling. I should have fucking done something, Simone!” he said, with his face still covered.

  “Don’t do this, Deon. There is nothing you could have done. If she didn’t want security, you know there is no way she would have let you hire some
one. You knew Nichelle better than anyone.” I kept rubbing his back. “Are you hungry? You want some pizza?” I asked. I hadn’t seen him eat a thing since I’d been with him.

  “No. Not hungry,” Deon replied with his hands still covering his face. Tyson wailed and Deon jumped up and was in the bedroom in less than two steps. Over an hour had passed before I dozed off on the chaise, watching the sunset.

  Talise

  Malachi had Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off, so we drove to his house in Santa Barbara early Friday morning when he finished his shift at the hospital. We both needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of LA. I thought it would do us some good, going to sleep and waking up to the sounds and smell of the ocean.

  He said that he hadn’t had a drink since Wednesday, the night before our talk, and I believed him. He’d been moody, just like an alcoholic who hasn’t had a drink in over a 24-hour period. I wondered if this was what I had to look forward to by staying by his side. I didn’t even know if this was his real personality, or just the effect of getting the toxins out of his system, or the effects of withdrawals. I know alcoholism is a disease and I had to keep reminding myself of that. I kept repeating it to myself over and over again, as I ran my fifth mile in the steep sand on the beach right outside of the house. I prayed for Malachi, for us. I prayed the Lord would give him strength, that He would touch his heart and come into his life. Malachi even bowed his head and let me pray aloud over our breakfast of bagels and coffee this morning. That made me so happy. I knew God was smiling, too.

  When I got back to the house, I removed my shoes at the door and went upstairs to the room Malachi and I shared. He was in the shower, so I undressed and joined him.

  “Hey, what a pleasant surprise,” he said pulling me close to his wet, naked body. “I know I’ve been moody lately and I’m sorry,” he said before kneeling down and pleasuring me as he always did.